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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27194788">Hold me Lover</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstralAlmighty/pseuds/AstralAlmighty'>AstralAlmighty</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Time, Geralt is still a Witcher, Jaskier goes by Dandelion for most of this, Love Confessions, M/M, Prostitution, Sex, baths, brothel, im soft for them okay, no beta we die like stregobor fucking should have, prostitute Jaskier, you get to a point and you’re like “shit I need to put fuck in here somewhere”, youll see why</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:41:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,758</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27194788</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AstralAlmighty/pseuds/AstralAlmighty</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Geralt was given a male prostitute, the last thing he expected was to go back. Least of all fall in love.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>203</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Hold me Lover</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Rating for mentions of sex, prostitutes, and brothels. No smut, so if you searched Prostitute!Jaskier for that, you’re not gonna find it here.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Geralt pushed the door open stiffly, practically glowing with glower. The warm air of June rushed into the nearly empty room.</p><p>A woman squeaked and ran off from the table. and two young men stood up, as if to intimidate him.</p><p>Ignoring the stares, Geralt went straight for the man at the table.</p><p>“We don’t have anyone available at the moment,” the man said stiffly. </p><p>Geralt suppressed a roll of his eyes. They never had someone available for him.</p><p>“I’ll take what I can get.”</p><p>The man eyed him warily, then directed him to a door on the left.</p><p>“Up the stairs, last door on the right. Pay when you come back, he’s a new one.”</p><p>In another time, Geralt may have made a fuss about being given a male prostitute, but today was certainly not that time. </p><p>***</p><p>Of all the interesting details Geralt could remember, the whore had captivating blue<br/>
eyes. And as inexperienced the man downstairs seemed to suggest, he was incredible with his mouth. </p><p>They didn’t talk much, which was nice. Geralt didn’t feel like talking. Well, he rarely felt like talking, but either way.</p><p>Some stress relief, a nice bath, a hot meal, and a quiet night later, Geralt left a heavy tip. The man at the table seemed shocked by Geralt’s generosity, and as Geralt left, he heard him exclaim to a woman.</p><p>“Can you believe that? We’ll have to see what else that Dandelion can do.”</p><p>“He was a mystery when he arrived and he remains one now,” the woman remarked, “Wouldn’t you say?”</p><p>Geralt couldn’t agree more.</p><p>***</p><p>It’s not like Geralt was madly in love with the prostitute he had hired once, he was just curious. </p><p>Dandelion was odd at their first meeting, but relaxing, as if they’d known each other for ages. He was clever with his tongue, and seemed to know exactly what Geralt wanted. He spoke little, but out of fear or character, Geralt couldn’t tell.</p><p>He was calm, and never showed fear or apprehension, even when they were fucking. His fingers were clever, and Geralt could feel odd callouses on the tips when he gripped his hair or gently washed it.</p><p>He was comforting in a way, and Geralt found he missed that feeling.</p><p>But no, Geralt was not in love, just curious.</p><p>***</p><p>The second time Geralt stopped to see Dandelion, it was two months after the first, and on a complete whim. </p><p>The woman he had seen the last time was standing there, and she smiled when he entered. </p><p>“Not many Witchers pass through here,” she grinned, “I’d remember you even if you hadn’t left such a lofty tip.”</p><p>Geralt smiled slightly, and nodded, unsure of how to treat her friendliness.</p><p>“Dandelion is free, he’s been open for an hour.”</p><p>“Alright then.”</p><p>“You can pay when you finish.”</p><p>***</p><p>This time, when Geralt entered, Dandelion was standing by the window. He seemed pleased to see Geralt, although Geralt could not fathom why one would be so happy as to see a Witcher enter with the purpose of fucking.</p><p>They did it on the bed, and Geralt fucked him on top. </p><p>Dandelion was more than willing to be submissive, and afterwards, he helped him bathe.</p><p>He spoke quite a bit more, and Geralt found that he enjoyed the mans voice. </p><p>It was a bit of a one sided conversation, with Geralt’s responses restricted to grunts and single sentences. But nevertheless, it was an enjoyable conversation.</p><p>He smiled at Geralt before he left, and Geralt felt an odd tug in his heart.</p><p>***</p><p>The third time, they did it twice. </p><p>Once against the wall, during which Geralt was practically soaked in kikimora guts, when everything had boiled over to this raw, unfettered lust.</p><p>Then again on the bed, after Dandelion had managed to clean every inch of skin Geralt had and more. Geralt left an good tip for the special treatment, and wondered where a prostitute like Dandelion had learned to touch so sweetly, yet grab on with a ferocity that rivaled Geralt’s. </p><p>***</p><p>The fourth time, Geralt learned the woman’s name was Lavender, and the man he had first seen at the brothel’s table was gone.</p><p>When asked, Lavender averted her eyes, and mumbled something about an illness, but she refused to say much more. </p><p>When he asked Dandelion-after quite an impressive fucking on the shag carpet-he turned to the window and repeated Lavenders answer. </p><p>Geralt didn’t press.</p><p>***</p><p>The fifth time Geralt entered Dandelions door, he walked in on the man writing at his desk. </p><p>Geralt briefly froze, and later wondered why such an ordinary act seemed so intimate to him.</p><p>Later that night, as he watched Dandelion’s chest rise and fall, it occurred to him he wanted to know more about this man. More about his life, his history, his hopes.</p><p>As much as he talked, and as much as Geralt listened, he was a mystery.</p><p>***</p><p>The next visits had a noticeable change to them.</p><p>Geralt talked more, asked about Dandelions life, what the brothel was like behind closed doors.</p><p>“As naughty as we are in here, my dear Witcher,” Dandelion smirked, and his eyes sparkled.</p><p>“You know what I mean,” Geralt pushed.</p><p>“If I am being honest, I don’t think I’ve ever been asked.”</p><p>“Then answer now, before you lose your chance.”</p><p>“You Witchers are far more eloquent than the stories say.”</p><p>***</p><p>Geralt learned that there were several women in the brothel, but Dandelion was the only man. Everyone went by flower names, for the sake of identity and attractiveness, and no one had the same name. </p><p>There was Lavender, who ran the desk and coached the newcomers. There was also Marigold, Daisy, Dahlia, Aster, Clover, Holly, Daffodil, Lily, Begonia, Jasmine, and Peony who worked there. Geralt had seen several of them flitting about. Rose and Lilac worked at the bar, and there was a cook called Mum who ran the food.</p><p>“Mum?”</p><p>“It’s short for mums, y’know, the bright fall flowers? Lovely things, they come in all colors, red, orange, pink, yellow, I think I saw a blue one once, although I may have been tripping balls at the time.”</p><p>“How did you get so high?”</p><p>“Would you believe me if I said I accidentally ate the wrong mushrooms?”</p><p>Geralt found that laughing in Dandelions room was quite enjoyable. </p><p>***</p><p>He didn’t ask what Dandelion’s real name was.</p><p>***</p><p>There was more fucking too, but it became less of an experience, and more a part of their lives. </p><p>They knew what made each other tick, and neither were afraid to be vocal in encouragement or in hesitance. </p><p>The first time Dandelion seemed uncomfortable, Geralt panicked, thinking he had hurt him. Dandelion chuckled at Geralt’s worried response, and attempted to reassure him that everything was fine. </p><p>Geralt could see hesitance in his eyes. He pulled away and asked Dandelion what he wanted to do.</p><p>The brunette told him, and later remarked that Geralt was one of the few people who cared about what he felt.</p><p>Geralt wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what he meant.</p><p>Later that same night, when Geralt was bathing, Dandelion was unusually quiet. </p><p>“Is something wrong?”</p><p>Dandelions head snapped up, and he plastered on a grin, “No, nothing’s wrong.” </p><p>Geralt paused, there was clearly something wrong, but he had no idea how to navigate this territory. </p><p>He settled on “Talk to me.”</p><p>Immediately, Geralt cringed. What was he thinking? If that didn’t make him sound like a disrespectful idiot, he didn’t know what did.</p><p>“Well,” Dandelion began, “When you, well, when I, err...”</p><p>He chewed his lip, and spoke again. “When I was uncomfortable, and you noticed, you wanted to make sure I was alright.”</p><p>“Of course I was.”</p><p>“You need to realize very few of the people I serve are as chivalrous as you.”</p><p>“I’m not chivalrous.”</p><p>“Not my point.”</p><p>Geralt stopped scrubbing his arm, and turned around to fully face the man lounging on the tubs edge.</p><p>“Are you, are you alright?”</p><p>Dandelion’s face lit up with mirth, and he turned to cover his laughter.</p><p>Geralt stared stupidly, had he made a joke?</p><p>After several minutes of unconstrained laughter, Dandelion turned back to the Witcher. </p><p>“I’m a whore, Geralt, I’m never fully alright. You just happen to make me happier.”</p><p>Geralt looked far too deeply into those words than he should have.</p><p>***</p><p>“Either way, Jasmine’s works are good, but she lacks diversity. Every chapter is well written, but unoriginal. She seems to think there is only one way to fuck, and although I must blame her customers for this misunderstanding, she could at least use a little imagination! Throw some spice in, it won’t hurt her!!”</p><p>Dandelion was lying on the bed, his hands gesticulating wildly. Geralt sat propped on one elbow, watching with fondness. </p><p>“Well, if you think her work is in need of dire editing,” Geralt managed to interject, “Tell me what you write, what you would change.”</p><p>Dandelion blushed, “Well, not erotica, I’ve rarely enjoyed writing it.”</p><p>“Then what do you write, I see you writing all the time.”</p><p>“Ah, well, it’s a bit of a fantasy.”</p><p>“A story? With what? Knights and heroes and dragons? Is there a princess to save?”</p><p>Chuckling, the man responded, “Yes to the story part, yes to all those fancy details, but not in the way you think.”</p><p>“Then what do I have wrong?”</p><p>“They’re song lyrics.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>When you lived in a brothel, as Dandelion and most of the other girls did, that was your life. It was difficult to escape, and even more difficult to start anew. Music, barding, they were far fetched dreams for the prostitutes of the Continent. </p><p>“I know, it’s a pipe dream, but that isn’t going to stop me from doing it. I like-no, I love-writing songs, I’ve even written a few about you and the other Witchers who pass by-“</p><p>“Wait,” Geralt held up his hand, “Two questions: one, you wrote songs about me? And two, what other Witchers have passed by here?”</p><p>Dandelion blushed again, “Well, the songs I’ve written about you are mostly about your adventures, the monsters you slay and tell me about. And as for the Witchers who pass by, there’s a wolf called Eskel and a viper, I think, called Vaba. Vaba has only showed up once or twice, but Eskel has been here multiple times. He mistook me for some sort of stable boy and went on a rather long rant about how Scorpion or whatever had taken a brutal beating from a monster. I, of course, had to ask for more details, and there’s a song somewhere about how the Witcher’s loyal friend saved him from the throngs of death, a tale told-“</p><p>“Does Eskel go to you?” Geralt interjected.</p><p>“What? Oh gods no, he and Peony and Daisy have something going on, I don’t ask. Anyways, a tale told of the legendary Witcher, hero and-“</p><p>Dandelion trailed off, and Geralt only listened half-heartedly, his thoughts drifting over to the odd possessiveness he was feeling.</p><p>***</p><p>How long had it been? Exactly eighteen months since his and Dandelion’s first meeting. Geralt had began looking forward to his visits.</p><p>It was nice that Dandelion’s brothel seemed to sit right in the middle of the Continent, it was never to difficult to redirect his route for a few days. </p><p>When Geralt returned after the first winter, they fell back into their old routine immediately. Some time involving their personal pleasures, a calming bath, a hot meal, a good rest, and some talking. Now he was partway through the second winter, and he missed the man.</p><p>Geralt visited him once more before he left for Kaer Morhen.</p><p>He didn’t promise to return, and Dandelion didn’t ask him too. </p><p>Now, Geralt sat with his brothers, drinking his ale and counting the months. </p><p>“Eskel,” Geralt blurted, “Do you know Dandelion?”</p><p>Eskel paused, a look of confusion apparent on his face. “Err, yeah, I do. I met him at a brothel, what? A few months ago? Sometime in the summer, I see him there occasionally.”</p><p>Lambert spat out his ale, “You fucked him?!”</p><p>“No, I did not fuck him. I thought he was a stable boy and tried to tell him to take care of Scorpion, but he took an interest in the monster and my rescue.”</p><p>“He wrote a song about it, I’ve been meaning to ask him,” Geralt froze with his tankard at his lips, realizing what he’d said.</p><p>The look on Lambert’s face was enough to know that Geralt would never live this down. </p><p>Fuck.</p><p>***</p><p>Dandelion,</p><p>I hope this letter finds you well, and I hope the business and the other girls are happy. I’m currently staying with my family in Kaer Morhen, like I told you, but I won a bet between my brother and he’s allowed me to use this enchanted messenger pigeon. You’re one of the few people I know to write to, and I thought I’d send a letter to see how you’re doing.<br/>
I have absolutely no fucking idea how this bird works, Lambert knows fuck all, Vesemir won’t help me because I kept him up last night, and Eskel is too shit faced to help. If it flys away before you can attach a letter, just send one to the town of Gwenllech. If you consider it inappropriate for me to write, don’t bother sending a letter and I’ll get the message.</p><p>Geralt</p><p>***</p><p>Geralt,</p><p>By Melitele’s tits Geralt, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were the most idiotic man on the Continent. It would be lovely to hear from you more, and I would be honored to write back. The bird did wait for me to write back, and it’s incessant pecking was enough to scare off a rude client or two (Thank you for that). You should see if your brother will give you the bird, it would prove useful for communicating.<br/>
The girls are doing wonderful, thank you for asking. Winter has been slow, as always, but Lavender has got most, if not all, of the girls writing, and the books make plenty of profit for us.<br/>
I’ve been singing a bit more when the building is empty, and Lavender wants me to sing for clients or people in town. I’m not sure if that’s going to happen, I haven’t sang for people in quite a long time.<br/>
Send Eskel my greetings, and would you mind asking him if the monster Scorpion saved him from was a succubus or a kikimora? I was horribly drunk when writing his ballad, and I have absolutely no idea what my writing says.</p><p>Ja Dandelion</p><p>***</p><p>Dandelion was intelligent, Geralt knew. He must’ve studied somewhere, likely Oxenfurt. </p><p>But how in the name of the Continent did he end up in this profession?</p><p>***</p><p>“I told my brothers about you,” Geralt said one night. They hadn’t slept together, which was a first. Neither of them really wanted sex that night.</p><p>He was snuggled up against Dandelion, the brunette lying on his back. Geralt was on his side, his head positioned below the other’s shoulder, their arms curled firmly around each other.</p><p>“Eskel and Lambert? Yeah, Eskel was here a week or two ago, and he asked about Scorpion’s song, which I need to finish. </p><p>By the way, you did not tell me that Scorpion was a horse! I’m utterly appalled Geralt, I spend months thinking this mysterious savior was a human. I write a damn song about him, tell Eskel all about it, only to be humiliated when he corrects me! And you knew I was wrong this entire time!! Gods, who taught you your manners.”</p><p>Geralt grinned, and buried his face in Dandelion’s chest.</p><p>***</p><p>One night, Geralt was bathing. It was late, but he heated the water, and had convinced Dandelion to at least put his feet in. </p><p>Dandelion was writing a new song, about flowers and the girls of the brothel. His voice filled the room with murmurings of discarded song lyrics and rhyming words. </p><p>“My god, what rhymes with Begonia?”</p><p>“Hmm.”</p><p>“Helpful as always...” the songwriter muttered.</p><p>“Glad to be useful.”</p><p>“I should see if my other clients are of any more help.”</p><p>“Your other clients are the illiterate workers of Novigrad, they know fuck all about rhyming.”</p><p>“You’re not wrong.”</p><p>***</p><p>“You’re thinking very loud,” Dandelion declared, still scribbling on his paper by the water.</p><p>“...do you enjoy seeing multiple people? In this profession?”</p><p>Dandelion barked a laugh, “No one enjoys this job Geralt, we learn to find happiness in it somehow. That’s what gets us through the day.”</p><p>“What is your happiness?”</p><p>“Music and you.”</p><p>“You say that to all of your clients.”</p><p>“No, I do not. From the bottom of my heart, you are my favorite client.”</p><p>“You have incredibly low standards.”</p><p>Dandelion kicked water at him, which may or may not have resulted in a naked Witcher pulling a half naked prostitute into the bath. Which, if course, ended as you would expect it too.</p><p>***</p><p>“You mentioned in an old letter that you were singing more.”</p><p>“Occasionally, yes.”</p><p>“Have you ever considered singing for an audience?”</p><p>“What kind of audience?”</p><p>“Me.”</p><p>“Well... I will admit I haven’t sang for anyone outside of the girls in ages, but I can make an exception.”</p><p>***</p><p>The best way to describe Dandelion’s singing, Geralt decided, was that it was unmistakably beautiful. </p><p>Somehow, he managed to twist and turn the words into notes, and his voice glided through the air perfectly. Geralt was enamored.</p><p>His only disappointment, however, was that Dandelion never sang of anything true.</p><p>“When I said that, I didn’t mean that your singing was bad.”</p><p>“Pray tell, what did you mean then?”</p><p>“It’s beautiful, but you never sing anything true. You twist lies into it, and you have no respect. Like a pie with no filling.”</p><p>“Respect doesn’t make history, Geralt. Sometimes all we want is a happy ending.”</p><p>“I’m sorry we don’t agree.”</p><p>“Me too.”</p><p>Geralt still urged Dandelion to sing for him and others. Slowly, he discovered that he enjoyed the lies and happy endings. </p><p>***</p><p>They hadn’t had sex last night, choosing to rest instead. Geralt could dimly hear the girls assisting other customers.</p><p>It was nearing sunrise, and Geralt was watching Dandelion talk. The window had been thrown open and the light sky was glowing.</p><p>The sun crested the hill, and Dandelion was washed with golden light. A halo was practically illuminated around his head. </p><p>He was still talking, but Geralt wasn’t listening. </p><p>He turned to face Geralt directly, and asked him something. </p><p>Geralt made a choice, and kissed his lover.</p><p>***</p><p>Technically speaking, they had kissed before, but not outside of sex. And never so chastely.</p><p>They didn’t talk about the kiss, or the ones that came after. </p><p>All Geralt really thought about was how it took  nearly two years for them to have their first real kiss. </p><p>All he really thought about was how Dandelion kissed him back.</p><p>***</p><p>After a narrow game of Gwent, Geralt won the magical pigeon from Lambert. Although he flat out refused to name the bird “Madeleine,” somehow, Dandelion convinced the poor bird that was her name. Any attempts to call her anything else would be futile. </p><p>With whatever name, though, the pigeon proved to be incredibly useful. </p><p>Geralt loved writing to Dandelion. It provided a break between contracts and a messaging system in the months they were apart. He knew all about the inner workings of the brothel now, of what everyone was doing at every turn and what new gossip had slipped through the cracks and spread through town. Dandelion, in turn, was privy to Geralt’s family, adventures, and Roach.</p><p>In fact, one early morning, he and Dandelion tip toed down to see her. Roach did not like him, but her aggressiveness did nothing to lessen Dandelion’s joy.</p><p>It occurred to Geralt this was the first time they’d been together outside of Dandelion’s room. </p><p>He liked it.</p><p>He wondered if Dandelion felt the same.</p><p>***</p><p>It was bothering how Dandelion had other customers.</p><p>Occasionally, Geralt would hear people talking in the brothel, about how talented he was. </p><p>Geralt didn’t want to think too much about it.</p><p>***</p><p>“Can I ask you a question?”</p><p>“My darling White Wolf, you just did.”</p><p>“What is your name?”</p><p>“...ah...”</p><p>“You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to.”</p><p>“I know...”</p><p>Several minutes of silence followed.</p><p>“I know you want to hear about my past, who I was, who I could’ve been.”</p><p>“You are under no obligation to tell me that.”</p><p>“You still want to know.”</p><p>“And if I do?”</p><p>“Then I’ll tell you one day.”</p><p>“Don’t tell me if you have no desire to.”</p><p>“I won’t.”</p><p>“I’m serious, don’t tell me anything unless you want me to know.”</p><p>“I swear.”</p><p>***</p><p>The next visit, Geralt and Dandelion were lying on the bed. </p><p>A while ago, they decided that they didn’t need sex to enjoy each other’s company. Now, it was normal for them to not fuck, just relax.</p><p>It was one of those days, where they just enjoyed each other’s company. It was quiet and it was comfortable.</p><p>Geralt’s head was tucked under Jaskier’s chin, and their arms were wrapped securely around each other. </p><p>He wasn’t tired, but he didn’t want to talk, and that was okay.</p><p>Dandelion’s hesitant whispers broke the silence after some time.</p><p>“I know you want to hear my story, and I want to tell you.”</p><p>Geralt stayed silent.</p><p>“I know you’re awake, but I won’t draw this out, I’ll keep it short.”</p><p>He inhaled sharply and deeply, his exhale brushing the top of Geralt’s head.</p><p>“I was born in Lettenhove and given high expectations at a young age. I loved the arts, but my parents... did not. I ran away when I was fourteen to go to Oxenfurt.</p><p>“I got my education there, and when I was eighteen, I started traveling as a bard. I traveled around the Continent during the warmer months, and wintered as a teacher at the school.”</p><p>Another inhale.</p><p>“When I was twenty-three, I met a man whom I... whom I thought I fell in love with. When we were... together, he was probably the kindest person I thought I knew.”</p><p>“What happened?” Geralt whispered, rubbing circles on Dandelion’s back.</p><p>“He beat me, sold my lute, stole my music, and bartered me to a brothel when we ran low on coin.”</p><p>Geralt’s arms tightened.</p><p>“I was passed around brothels for a while, until I came here. The man who used to run this place, Frabryck, was not a good man. You had the luck to only meet him once, he died shortly after we met.”</p><p>“How did he die?”</p><p>“I killed him, with a dagger that fell out of your armor.”</p><p>Geralt huffed, “Do you still have it?”</p><p>“Never gave it up,” and Geralt could hear the smirk in Dandelion’s voice.</p><p>There was a pregnant pause before Dandelion spoke.</p><p>“Go ahead, you can ask.”</p><p>“...”</p><p>“Geralt.”</p><p>“...how long have you been doing this?”</p><p>Dandelion pressed his lips into Geralt’s hair, and softly murmured, “Two weeks ago I turned thirty-five.”</p><p>***</p><p>Geralt didn’t leave Dandelion’s room the next morning. </p><p>When he saw Lavender a day later, he payed her extra, and gave her a shell necklace that had been kicking around in his saddlebags. She smiled, winked, and turned to help the next client.</p><p>If Dandelion cried the other night, that was no one’s business but their own.</p><p>If Geralt held him close and comforted him, that was no one’s business but their own.</p><p>If they kissed sweetly before he left, that was no one’s business but their own.</p><p>***</p><p>It was quiet in the brothel, and Geralt was sharpening his swords, watching Dandelion work on a new song. An old lute had been upcycled, and it was currently Dandelion’s most prized possession.</p><p>He abruptly stopped playing.</p><p>Geralt glanced up, confused.</p><p>“I never told you what my name was,” Dandelion said.</p><p>“You don’t have to.”</p><p>“I want to.”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>Several seconds passed before anyone spoke. When Dandelion spoke again, he sounded resentful.</p><p>“My parents named me Julian, and I’ve always hated that name. Always. When I went to Oxenfurt, I changed my name to Jaskier.”</p><p>“Buttercup,” Geralt whispered.</p><p>“Yes, not an appealing name for a whore.”</p><p>“Don’t call yourself that.”</p><p>“Excuse me?”</p><p>“You’re a person, not a whore. And I don’t see what’s wrong with Jaskier. It’s a beautiful name.”</p><p>He chuckled, “It’s a detailed name, an easy name to remember. I don’t want to be remembered, not like this.”</p><p>“You’re still not a whore.”</p><p>“Yes I am, Geralt.”</p><p>“No, you’re not.”</p><p>“Then what am I?! Tell me?!” </p><p>“A person, a kind person. Someone who knows how to make people smile, someone who knows how to make them happy, someone who just happens to have a lot of sex.”</p><p>The bard snorted.</p><p>“I’m serious, the only time I made a comment about not being human-“</p><p>“You’re the greatest man I’ve ever met.”</p><p>“So are you, but when I said that, you jumped on me and pointed out that I’ve saved hundreds, thousands of people, that I’ve always worked not to finish the job but to help people. I take little coin, and I fight monsters far above my skill level because people need me too. If I am a person as you say, you are one too.”</p><p>The brunette was silent. </p><p>“You’re a person, worthy of respect, and I can’t count the number of times you’ve made someone happy in this building or town. You sacrifice your happiness, partly out of choice, partly out of obligation, for the happiness of others. You of all people don’t deserve that title, so don’t call yourself that.”</p><p>No one spoke for several minutes, before the bard said, “Alright then.”</p><p>He returned to his lute.</p><p>***</p><p>Late that night, the brothel was deathly quiet.</p><p>Geralt sat on the bed silently. Dandelion had poured his heart out, had given Geralt his past and his pain without asking for anything in return. </p><p>Why hadn’t Geralt done the same for him? Didn’t he want to?</p><p>Said man entered the room, and laid on the other side of the bed. Geralt grabbed his arm, and pulled him to sit. </p><p>“Ah, well, okay... erm, Geralt are you alright?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Then what’s wrong?”</p><p>Geralt breathed deeply, inhaling the scents of sex and perfume.</p><p>“Do you know how Witchers are created?”</p><p>“...I’ve heard stories, but don’t tell me out of obligation.”</p><p>“I’m not.”</p><p>“I believe you.”</p><p>And Geralt told him. He told him about his mother, and how he was abandoned on the road, about Vesemir, and the other boys. He told him about the Trials, and how he went through a double set of mutations, and how they burned until he thought he was going to die. He told him about Eskel comforting him, and the graves he helped dig. He told him about Blaviken, about Renri, Stregobor, and Marilka. </p><p>And when he was done, he looked at the prostitute, and they were both crying. Geralt tried to turn away, but he was pulled back.</p><p>***</p><p>He accidentally called him Jaskier the other day. </p><p>Accident? Maybe not, but either way, it ended with a deep kiss and a request to do it again.</p><p>***</p><p>The third winter was coming up, and Geralt was watching Jaskier dress. </p><p>It had been a busy day, and Geralt waited an hour before Jaskier dragged him upstairs to his room, where they rested, fucked themselves silly, and slept for an entire day and night. </p><p>Madeleine was perched on a window, waiting for Jaskier’s long overdue letter. She occasionally squawked, interrupting the peaceful silence. </p><p>Geralt wasn’t paying attention to Madeleine, though, he was watching Jaskier. The brunette was slipping into a simple white cotton shirt, and a decorative doublet. He was going to perform in town tonight. </p><p>Geralt had gotten a lute, a magical one-if he was correct-from some elves whom he assisted. It was a beautiful lute, and Jaskier looked like he was going to cry when Geralt presented it to him.  </p><p>After a few weeks of practice, he started performing away from the brothel. Geralt had heard through their letters, and wanted to be there. </p><p>Geralt softly sighed, watching the man button up his doublet, and he wondered if it was possible to fall in love so deeply. </p><p>Jerking out of reverie, Geralt realized what he had just thought. </p><p>“Are you coming?” He heard a teasing grin.</p><p>Well, no time to think about love now, there was a singer to support. </p><p>***</p><p>The performance was slow at first, the years spent out of practice laying their weight. But as the night wore on, Jaskier got better and better. He sang of a thousand people, playing the old, new, and classics. </p><p>More than once did he look up and wink at a certain Witcher, but he refrained from flirting with anyone else. It seemed odd for a bard to do so, especially one with Jaskier’s history. It couldn’t possibly mean anything to his and Geralt’s relationship, could it?</p><p>Banishing those thoughts, Geralt focused on the music. Jaskier was announcing a new song, one that he hoped would live on forever. He settled down on a stool, and giving an unreadable look to Geralt, he strummed the first chord.</p><p>Jaskier was in his element, where he had been taken from years ago and had longed to return to. Now he was here, and he had told Geralt outright that he was using this to his advantage. He was doing everything and anything he could while he still had the chance. The song continued, and Geralt came to the realization that the song was about him.</p><p>Everyone knew of the Witchers’ poor reputations across the Continent. But ever since the beginning, the bard showed no fear towards Geralt, and had repeatedly supported the Witchers.</p><p>Jaskier had even said, “I knew a man whom everyone hated, yet they couldn’t live without, and when he died, they died. That is what Witchers mean to our world. I am going to change the world so that you are valued before your death, rather than after.”</p><p>Geralt had laughed and told Jaskier that it was a pipe dream, and that he couldn’t do much.</p><p>Listening to the song, though, convinced Geralt otherwise. </p><p>He already knew the value and importance of music, having listened to many discussions and seeing music’s effect across the Continent. </p><p>Jaskier’s music was already influential-if his copyright claims were true. He knew how to change an opinion, how to rouse a crowd, how to spread a song. </p><p>Could he change the world?</p><p>Even if he did, why would he? Why would he help Geralt and the Witchers? What did Geralt mean to Dandelion? What did they mean to each other?</p><p>“Toss a coin to your Witcher,<br/>
Oh Valley of Plenty<br/>
Oh Valley of Plenty...”</p><p>***</p><p>Geralt remembered his thoughts from earlier that day. He remembered thinking that he loved Jaskier. </p><p>Looking up at the bard now, Geralt knew why he thought that.</p><p>Jaskier was kind, was gentle and rough, was violent and caring, he knew what Geralt needed and how to give it to him.</p><p>He was never afraid, he was dedicated and loyal, and by the gods he was the strongest man Geralt had ever met.</p><p>Geralt loved him because Jaskier was Jaskier, and he wanted Jaskier. He wanted to spend their days together, to spend everyday together, not just with letters and pigeons.</p><p>And even if Jaskier didn’t return the feeling, Geralt didn’t want to keep this secret. He couldn’t keep this secret.</p><p>The song ended, and Geralt looked up, face blank, to meet Jaskier’s eyes. The bard looked terrified, and Geralt smiled, remembering the song and its beauty. Jaskier smiled back, collected his coin, and the the Witcher and his bard left the tavern.</p><p>***</p><p>Heading back in the direction of the brothel, Geralt turned off towards a path.</p><p>“Where are you going?” The bard spoke.</p><p>“Come on,” Geralt grinned, “Trust me.”</p><p>Holding out his hand, he waited for a reaction, until Jaskier smiled and took his hand, interlacing their fingers.</p><p>They walked down the path, Geralt leading the way. The stars twinkled, and the occasional cloud drifted, blocking out huge sections of the sky.</p><p>Stopping at a fence, Geralt and Jaskier watched the scenery. Rolling hills blanketed by forests climbed far past the horizon. Mountains rose in the distance, their snowy peaks marked the coming of winter.</p><p>“Your performance was incredible,” Geralt spoke, breaking the silence first.</p><p>“I couldn’t have done it without you.”</p><p>“Lavender would’ve made you.”</p><p>“Perhaps, but I wouldn’t have had the heart.”</p><p>“Do you mean that?” Geralt said, his voice calm, and his thoughts panicking. </p><p>“Of course,” Dandelion gripped their linked hands tighter.</p><p>Geralt opened his mouth and closed it, opened and closed it again, and then a third time, and then a fourth time for good measure.</p><p>“No offense my dear, but you look like a fish.”</p><p>Their hands were still linked when they stopped laughing, and Geralt turned to take both of Jaskier’s hands. Taking a deep breath, Geralt spoke.</p><p>“I think I am... no... I know I am in love with you.”</p><p>Dandelion gasped.</p><p>“I don’t... I don’t know if you feel the same, but I know that over the years, I’ve come to love you. And I... and I want to spend it with you. If you say no, I’ll leave and you’ll never have to see me again, but that is, that is your choice.” Geralt rushed, his tongue felt thick, he closed his eyes, not daring to look at Jaskier’s face.</p><p>A warm hand slipped from his grasp and pressed against his cheek. He opened his eyes to see Jaskier leaning in ever so slightly, his blue eyes sparkling like the stars that shone above.</p><p>“I’m afraid you won’t have to worry about never seeing me again,” Jaskier murmured, and brushed his lips against Geralt’s. </p><p>It was the slightest touch, barely even a kiss. And even though they had seen each naked countless times, kissed countless times, been intimate countless times, this kiss felt like lightening. Geralt shuddered, and he gripped Jaskier’s shoulders tightly, not daring to let go. </p><p>Opening his eyes, he looked into Jaskier’s. “I must confess,” the bard said with a smile, “I’ve been madly in love with you for months now, I’m surprised you haven’t noticed.” </p><p>“You chose the most thick headed man to fall in love with, I’m afraid,” Geralt chuckled. </p><p>“I’m afraid I have, whatever shall I do?”</p><p>“Convince me that you love me.”</p><p>“How should I do that?”</p><p>“Kiss me.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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